


if you wanna (come)

by jojiberries



Category: Cancer Crew, Cold Ones (Podcast), Maxmoefoe - Fandom, Youtube RPF
Genre: Drunk Antics, Experimentation, M/M, alcohol use, chad you can choke, experimenting, go away scogg, i wrote this high as a mf kite, max i'm really sorry mate, the vaccines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:02:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25801804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojiberries/pseuds/jojiberries
Summary: on the set of the zuckles cold ones podcast, max is fighting to keep his hotdog in his stomach, and chad is fighting his weird inexplicable attraction to his cohost.
Relationships: Max Stanley/Chad Roberts, Maxmoefoe/Anything4views
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	if you wanna (come)

**Author's Note:**

> it's been. a while.  
> but i had a bet with my housemate that i couldn't write a genuinely sexy fanfiction about chad roberts.  
> i lost the bet but here you go anyways
> 
> general warning for drunk losers saying homophobic slurs as a meme 
> 
> title from if you wanna by the vaccines

Once Zuckles had left the building, the Cold Ones studio was unsettlingly quiet. Usually, someone was saying some retarded shit, but nobody said a thing. With only the sounds of clinking grog glasses, bottles and echoing footsteps, Yuri and Scogg did a preliminary clean of the studio set. Chad motioned to pour himself another glass of whiskey & coke in a glass that he’d hidden from Scogg. 

“Oi, aren’t you had enough tonight, bro?” Max queried. He’d noticed that Chad had perhaps overdone it the slightest amount. Maybe ‘overdone’ was the wrong word, considering he always overdid it to some extent. But tonight was more so. 

Chad was already in the process of pouring his drink. “Nah, man.” 

He seemed weirdly reserved. Weird especially considering how less than an hour ago he was screeching at Scogg for enacting evasive maneuvres with the fabled drone-shot. Max just put it down to Chad’s alcohol-addled brain. Chad offered Max a drink, but after a quick assessment of how he felt he may well re-enact ‘Vomit Cake’ (2014) except without the cake, he politely refused. 

Scogg finished up his cursory tidy, popped the SD cards out of the DSL-Rs and mumbled an adieu. Yuri followed. Soon the two gay cunts were alone in the studio. 

This happened occasionally when Chad couldn’t be fucked calling his own Uber, or Max wanted to do some last-minute Pokemon-video editing. Something was off, though. Max couldn’t help but feel as if something was different. The vibe was bad. He was getting bad vibes, bro. 

“I’m getting a bad vibe, bro.” He said, not too elegantly. 

Chad scoffed. “What, you think there’s a ghost here? You some kind of superstitious faggot?” 

“Yeah, nah, something like that.” Max shrugged. He watched as Chad necked the rest of his drink, and went to pour another. The younger man’s movements became slower, more lethargic - his speech more slurred. Max didn’t think he’d seen Chad this pissed since the Jacksfilms episode. He told him as such. 

“I was pretty pissed then, hey?” Chad grinned. Max breathed a quiet sigh of relief - as gay as it sounded, he did like Chad’s smile. It was goofy and stupid and warm. Chad looked wistfully into the distance (or maybe he was drunkenly dissociating). 

“We slept on the sofa in the Airbnb.” Max recounted fondly. 

“Didn’t think there’d be room for both of us.” 

“But there was.” 

There was a beat of silence. Chad belched. 

“Kinda gay, man.” 

“Chad,” Max turned in his swivel chair, sending the alcohol in his brain sloshing around. “You’ve said you’re gay before. As a meme. But, like… Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.”

“What?” Chad straightened up a little. 

“Like how you said you sucked a cock before.” 

The younger man shook his head. “That was pretty much assault, dude… I wouldn’t count it.” 

“The question still stands.” 

Chad had the audacity to look offended. “You think I actually like cock in my mouth? Or my arse?” 

Max laughed - he didn’t know what else to do. Every time Chad had made a gay joke he had to wonder. Max had never known a straight man to be so incensed over the concept of gay sex as Chad was. Was it so wrong of him to ask for clarification? “If you don’t want to talk about it, don’t worry, I…I was just asking.” 

“Asking if I like cock?” 

“Yeah!” Max started to get irritated. “I’m asking you if you like cock, bro!”

“No!” 

“Okay! Fucking hell, man. You’re just a straight dude who’s sucked cock once.” 

Chad giggled. He actually giggled, the fucker. “It was more than once.”

“That guy assaulted you twice?” 

“No.” Chad smiled. Like he was proud of himself. “I’ve been to a few rodeos.” 

Max was about to give up. The truth of Chad’s feelings were always locked tight in a steel-barred box, hardened by years of alcoholism, and Max knew he wouldn’t get through to it tonight. And besides, he was too hammered to care. He shrugged, “Okay. I’m done with your cryptic shit. You want me to call an Uber?” 

Chad’s face changed - eyebrows raised, pink mouth slightly ajar - He looked… offended? “You don’t believe me?” 

“Yeah, sure Chad, I believe you’ve given multiple blowjobs.” Max rolled his eyes. 

“I have!” 

“You’re not fucking gay, Chad! I’ve known you since we were kids!” 

“Well, I just haven’t told you, have I?” 

Something in Max’s chest dropped. “Why wouldn’t you have told me?” 

“I dunno, man, it’s none of ya fuckin’ business.” Chad paused. “And you never asked.” 

“Why would I ask you if you’ve sucked cock?” 

“You’re asking me now!” 

More silence. Max took a deep breath, not wanting the people in the apartment above the studio to call the domestic abuse hotline. Before Max could regain his brain cells, though, he heard a squeak of leather as Chad slid down and off his chair. Max saw him kneeling on the ground, next to Max’s knees. Dumbfounded, Max said nothing until Chad touched the sensitive skin under Max’s knees, trying to pry them apart. 

Max snapped his knees closed, trapping Chad’s roaming hand between them. “What the FUCK, dude?” 

“What?” 

“Are you-” Max could barely comprehend it. What was happening? How did this happen? “What are you doing?” 

“I’m gonna suck you off.” 

“What.” Max said stupidly. He tried to remember when in the conversation he had agreed to this. In the back of his head, his stupid, drunk head, he looked over at the sight of Chad between his knees and liked it. This dickhead that irritated him to no end was kneeled submissively under him. It was nice. That’s okay, right? He’s allowed to aesthetically appreciate that. He quickly cut the thought short. 

Chad sat back on his haunches. “Well now I feel fucking stupid.” 

“What made you think-” Max started. 

“You kept asking me about sucking cock, man! I thought you were dropping hints!” 

The niggling thought was back again. Oh, God, just seeing Chad in such a vulnerable position was sending blood rushing to Max’s crotch. If he got a boner right now it’d be the end of his fucking life. But even wishful thinking seemed too late. As blood drained from his head and into his cock, Max slowly let his knees fall apart again. “I-I mean,” he said, something caught in his throat. “If you wanna…” 

This was it, Max thought. He’d surely have to kill himself as soon as this whole thing was over. His eyes flicked briefly down at Chad’s lips - the dark hair of his beard making them seem to glisten pink in comparison. The next thing he felt was Chad’s large hands on both of his knees, holding them in place. Max had about a half-chub at this point, which was embarassing considering he hadn’t even really been touched. This was straight-up the weirdest thing he’d ever done, and the weirdest thing was, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. 

One of Chad’s hands roamed to Max’s crotch, brushing his bulge through his shorts. Even that minute contact sent shocks through Max’s body, and he jolted forward, keening for more. “Alright, somebody’s eager,” Chad teased. Max flipped him off. Max felt a bit weird with his hands by his side, so he opted to place them on the back of Chad’s head. Not pressing, just resting there. He noticed that Chad’s hair was soft. He’d always thought it’d be greasy. 

Chad grabbed either side of Max’s shorts and started to pull them down. Max instinctively sat up to help him and kicked them off once they reached his ankles. Chad did the same with his boxers, and soon the cool air of the studio hit Max’s dick. 

Although Max was drunk half out of his mind, he recognised that he felt self conscious. A blush worked its way up his neck. He watched Chad study his cock, like he was working out where best to approach it from, and Max couldn’t stand the tension. Was he too small? He always thought he was an average size. Does Chad care? What size were the other dicks Chad’s sucked? How does Max rank among them? 

“If you’re gonna do it, then do it, cunt.” Max spat out. 

To his surprise, Chad didn’t provide his usual retarded witticism. He just leaned forward, braced his hands on the fuzzy insides of Max’s thighs, and suckled the head of Max’s cock into his mouth. Immediately, Chad felt Max harden in his mouth, and got a sense of pride. In the few-and-far-between moments he’d wondered how Max looked when he got his cock sucked, Chad imagined that he was pretty vocal. He hoped he could get Max to produce those noises he knew he could make. 

Chad made an effort to relax the back of his throat and took Max in deeper, leaving some room at the base of the shaft to wrap his hand around and jerk Max off. Already Max was as hard as he could ever remember being, and every touch of Chad’s tongue made him feel like he had a shock collar attached to his lower stomach. 

He bucked his hips forward - force of habit - and felt Chad’s strong hands pressing his hips back down. God, that was hot. He did it again, and felt Chad press harder this time, his fingertips digging into his skin. Chad forced his legs further apart, and Max felt Chad’s throat open as he took him in deeper again.  
Max felt himself hit the back of Chad’s throat and he almost came right then and there. It was kind of embarassing, really, how worked up he’d gotten. “Fuck-” Max panted, taking one hand out of Chad’s half-undone braid to grip the sides of his seat intently. 

Chad took his thumbs out of the indent he’d made in Max’s hips and instead grabbed his arse with both hands. Nobody’d ever done that to Max before - he felt so truly… owned. This time when he bucked his hips into Chad’s throat, Chad didn’t stop him. 

“I’m close.” Max said, bucking harder, faster. Every time he did it he bumped against Chad’s throat and it turned him on so fucking much, feeling Chad’s muscles contract tightly around him to stop Chad gagging. Even then, Chad was making these little sounds, gagging, spluttering. 

Max was moving so quickly the leather chair started to squeak, but he didn’t care. He felt his orgasm almost almost there, just a few more pumps and he’d be there. “I’m-” he tried to warn Chad, but the words died somewhere on their way out. Max whimpered this whiney, drawn-out sound, and the hand in Chad’s hair scrunched up, pulling his braid completely out. 

“Uhh… Oh, Chad, shit-”

One of the hands Chad had on Max’s arse spread his cheeks apart and pressed two fingers hard against Max’s perineum. It was so over for him. 

“Fuck!”

A bolt struck him, like a switch had been pressed, and he came forcefully into Chad’s mouth. To his credit, Chad sucked it all down, letting Max ride it out by swinging his hips back and forth. 

Max hadn’t realised he’d shut his eyes. When he opened them, he saw Chad still between his thighs, lips puffy beyond relief, eyes glassy with tears, and spit dribbling through his beard. In perhaps the gayest moment of his entire life, the word that flashed through Max’s mind was beautiful. Allowing his gaze to travel down, he noticed Chad fisting his own cock through his sweatpants rapidly. Max watched as Chad’s eyes scrunched shut, his mouth opened slightly, and he moaned loudly. A wet patch began to bloom. 

They goofily grinned at each other, like they’d just committed the crime of the century. 

They heard a cough. 

Max’s head snapped up to the source of it, and there stood their fucking intern, face red as a beet, hands clutching a small object Max couldn’t see in the dim light. 

“F-forgot my wallet.” Scogg offered, and then turned on his heels to leave. 

Chad wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirtz.cool hoodie and stood up. “How long have you been there, fuckhead?” 

“Not long.” Scogg squeaked. 

“If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll fucking kill you.” Chad said, in the tone of voice he used to vacate parties or kick girls out of his hotel room in the mornings. The agressvieness of it sent Max shivering. 

Scogg didn’t say another word, and left. The door slammed. 

“Fuck,” was all Max could say. 

Chad sat in his chair next to his co-host and washed down the salty taste in his mouth with some coke, like everything was normal and fine. “How was it?” 

“The- the blowjob?” 

“No, the weather. Yes, the blowjob, you moron.” 

“I think you sucked my brains out.” Max said. “I can’t think straight.” 

They shared a look, and burst into breathless laughter. 

They need to do this again sometime, Max thought, even if it meant getting a new intern.


End file.
